Yet to be named
by The Man With The Silver Spoon
Summary: No particular story line, just me enjoying the ability to write a story...
1. Chapter 1

Until this moment I had been content with TV. I had never found its one, ultimate flaw, and had therefore never truly discovered the potential wonders of the world. Don't get me wrong. TV is still great, but being alone, in my room, imagining standing before a sleeping woman, knife in hand, arm raised and ready to drop, driving the nice long serrated knife into her, I realised that I had not once experienced the thrill and excitement of knowing what it would be like to truly end an evil life, merely what it would be like to watch it done by others on a 26'' screen.

I hope the thrill wont kill TV for me...

_In the beginning there was only me. After a while I got bored, and decided to experiment with the plane of existence I now found myself within. I created myself in a form that was manageable, and realised that I long for a release from the stress of being alone. Hence I created the mouth upon my form. As I consumed different objects I had conjured into existence, I realised nothing would be as good as a complex substance. Something exotic, something strange... I began work... It took me many months of work to create a prototype... I looked upon it, round and a bold colour, deep with passion... I looked upon it and said "You shall be known as Apple." It wasn't amazing. I continued work. Much changed and my "apple" slowly evolved. Then one day, I had made my release... I decided it deserved the authority of a word like "Apple" but it needed a superiority... A solid title, like Pine... Hence the "Pine Apple". My Pine apple, the Pine ruler of all apples in both flavour and general greatness... The Pine Apple... that had soon disappeared with in me... I decided to make more, but creating such complexity took much time and effort. I decided I shall make a system even more complex in design, but in the long run, a greater producer of the Pine apple than I ever could be... I called it: "The Universe". And I shall hence fourth be known as its ruler and creator: "Lord Supreme Pine Ruler of All That I Created Including Pine Apples and so on and so fourth"..._

_Before realising it'd take me more time to say that than make another Pine apple, so I chose the first word that came to mind..._

_God._

I sat alone within my room. The knife cradled beneath my skin, fitting in perfectly between the line that was the canyon between my flesh... The lines across my wrist drawing wider with each twitch, with each stoke of this magical knife. I looked in awe at the ability of my soul. To carve within itself, to crush all sense of self preservation in an effort for sanctuary through pain. Through real pain. I often believed in myself to be a superior above my problems. During the day that may be so, but the night held that I desired a way to get rid of all my problems. To make them vanish upon a point so insignificant, due to the flares of hatred and steel probing beneath my wrist. I believed myself to be a god, triumphing over my problems. All I needed to do now was be rid of my demons... She needed to die. I pushed harder and breathed deep. Its going to be a long night...

_Looking upon the bible, I see the accuracy. You see I did in fact create all this in seven days, but it didnt quite explain just how much work that was... You have to understand, on the first day I created light. Hell yea I did, I couldnt bloody well see in the dark now could I? But what it doesn't mention is that to do that, within a space of 24 hours, I had to create every element in the known universe, then create nuclear fusion as a way to make a constant energy source, then I had to develop everything within the field of QUANTUM MECHANICS to make light even possible. So yea, I made light in one day. I made it in one measly bloody day... And what is it compressed to? I made light... Thanks._

_Im sure youve all read the rest of how I did cool stuff over the course of the next 5 days before taking a breather, so lets not go into that. The point is, I made a system that made me pineapples at a constant rate._

I had never believed in God personally. He was never there when I asked it of him. People often tried to tell me of the good news. I often told them that God killed more people in the bible than Satan. Almost ONE HUNDRED TIMES more. Gods just awesome like that. I _want_ to be on his side if he's as cool as that. But I just cant. I looked put upon the sky through my window and knew there was something, its just a matter of what... And if I can kill it for ignoring me all this time...

_I realised soon enough that with this system I had created came the prospect of a life without a lack of company. I made man in my image and let them roam free. At first it was much like, what I now know to be the Sims. I taught them through gentle actions. I made them feel through simple gestures. I made them love through the Pine apple. They learnt, and I let them be, off to see if I could create something greater than Pineapple (hard as that may be to believe). After many a year I returned upon the invention of the Coca bean, and although not great by itself, I thought of what would happen when mixed with my ulk, to discover three things. First Pine apple wasn't one word! Pine is a title! Second they misheard me and pronounced my ulk "Milk" the idiots... And that the humans of by own spawn had created a system of even greater efficiency than I had dreamed... I moved to guide these people into devoting themselves to the pineapple, only to realise they had become too numerous and too hard to control. I needed a way to control the masses without direct contact... As I thought, I tripped upon a cloud. I swore, and being Lord Supreme Pine Ruler Guy of All That I Created Including Pineapples and so on and so fourth that made a noise loud enough that everyone heard... I awoke a child, and found that to a cruel twist of fate, she named me the sound everyone had heard that dreadful day of my tripping..._

"_Hello baby Jesus... Im your new mummy..."_

Im drifting... If only the world had that much humour. If only the world had that much irony and simplicity. "Baby Jesus"... Im still laughing... Im drifting into sleep, my mind touching world not my own, but of greater laughs and even greater happiness. An escape from my own. I thought what it would be like to have the power to make the universe bend at your will. To make the universe as you saw fit. I thought back to my personal Satan. I delved into thought of pain I could inflict; the ways of torture; the ways of screaming terror through being able to control the universe... The ways of mishap and insanity she shall be driven through... If I _was_ god... It'd be one hell of a day to get in my way. I look upon the knife, willing it to bend, asking it to make me happy. To allow my thoughts of screams and terrors to be plausible. It was quite content with not moving. I was quite content with the world living to see another day. I lowered the knife. I have a girlfriend you know? She doesnt like it when I get a release like this. She hates it. She just doesnt understand how it feels. The dissipating of bad and nasty thoughts, the euphoria of sensation as metal touches my skin. The searing pain as the knife forces the flesh apart. I want to be anywhere but here.

_And so let us see where we can go..._


	2. Chapter 2

I awoke a while later. The knife in all its serrated beauty resting gently in my palm, hanging lazily to my side. I think back to where I was, and even as it slowly drifts away, I know within it I was happy. I look up, the window above my head, to see not even an inkling of light coming though the window. Its still either very late or very early. I look upon my wrist to see the bright red blood faded to a crimson fate, the knife having done no better. I don't know why I do this any more. I used to be so stable, so happy, now all I see is the darkness closing in from all sides. I see all the horrors, the mines, the traps, the demons, but most importantly the devil. I look within my hand, wondering when I turned it dark red. I suppose it bothers me not, as it merely allows for yet another release... I feel like what I'm doing is futile. As if what I'm doing is worthy of only more self hatred. I guess that's how the world works...

_I force her on the table, shoulders pinned and head flat. She isn't struggling, as much as she is wondering what's going on. I rest my hand upon her forehead. I feel the energy of thoughts passing to and fro. After a short while I slowly encapsulate how her mind works and begin to follow her thoughts. Reading minds isn't as people imagine it to be, its a lot like standing on the side of a free way and reading the licence plates of every car that passes. You can see the cars coming, but that doesn't help much in seeing what the licence plate actually is, not to mention the magnitude of cars flying past...Still, if you only concentrate on for example blue cars, it becomes a lot more easier. That's what I'm doing now, I'm listening to her minds ability to comprehend pain to find where her problem is... I see that she's receiving pain from her abdomen. I lift up her shirt a slither and apply the band aid. She looks at me wondering how I knew where her scratch was, as she slowly hands me the $5 bet, and asks how I knew. "I can read minds" I tell her. She asks me to do it again for another scratch she'll make..._

I always fear what people think of me. Not only do they have a tendency to keep thoughts to themselves, but more often than not when they are doctored and not pure of form. I often fear I've let people down, that I've done something wrong and they choose not to tell me. You see I think it derives from my bitch of a mother, who upon many a joyous occasion, tells me EVERYTHING I do wrong, and hence I have gained a habit of searching for every tiny, insignificant thing that I might disappoint her with. Still, it has allowed me to be there for many people, as I often find the thing they didn't think of, and therefore solve many a problem for people, but not many for myself. If only I could see what people were thinking, not only would I know who to trust, avoid, and love, but I'd know the truth. Because I know they think I'm pathetic, there just to nice to say it.

_I go looking through her mind again. I slowly read the thoughts, becoming more and more accurate. She hasn't cut herself, but she's pinching her fingertip. I tell her of my discovery, and she does nothing but stare. I tell her I'm just awesome like that. She asks it of me one more time. Already it's becoming old to me, but I suppose once more to conclude her testing of my abilities. I giver her a minute, rest my hand upon her head, and read her thoughts. After a few seconds I realise that there is nothing to do with pain, but there are many thoughts I'm not paying attention to that are somehow, flagged, in a sense. I divert my attention and after another few seconds realise its her asking if I can hear her. The bitch figured it out. I stop chasing after those thoughts and look though her feelings of pain one more time to see if I can find something I missed. I feel a sensation, not from her, but from within me. I builds upwards. I'm going to sneeze... I sneeze to the side, away from her. I feel my head come alive with the few moments stress. As I do, I discover something I didn't know I could do, I create thoughts. I see her mind come alive with activity, and distracted by this I watch what I have created unfold, before seeing the new thoughts for what they are. Thoughts of pain flood her mind. I hear her scream._

I smile. A gentle smile, but none the less I do. I'm scared of myself sometimes. I take pleasure in things I really shouldn't, but the ability to both read and implant thoughts would be of great used to me. I pull myself together, I really need to get some sleep, else tomorrow will be horrible and I'll just wind up doing this whole thing again anyway. I pull my hands together and rest my forehead upon them. I feel a headache brewing. I slide the knife into the usual spot and lie down. I'm already falling asleep, but that doesn't mean my mums any less of a bitch.

_I arrive home, troubled by what I had created. I hear yelling from the other room. I was hoping mum would be asleep. I walk to my room, thankfully undetected, before going to tell her I'm home. She looks at me with a nice, sincere smile. Everything's ok... The TV's on, the suns shining, mum's smiling, and my brother is slowly walking out of the room with more than a tear or two in his eye. I hope he's ok. Her smile disappears as she recognises me. I listen to what she says with a keen ear, knowing that one mistake could be fatal... I look at her, no longer being mean, but extremely instructive and aggravating... I slap her forehead mustering all the hatred I have, pushing it all into her thoughts. _I hear her scream. _I smile. _I love it when shit just works out...


End file.
